


Soulmate scars

by TopHatNerd



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:03:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3153278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopHatNerd/pseuds/TopHatNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if those little cuts and bruises that seemingly appeared out of nowhere on your body are actually little injuries that your soulmate have and you have the same marks as them? [DISCONTINUED]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic may be triggering to some of you so please read at your own risks.  
> The first chapter has mentions of scars.

Law had always wondered why he got all these bruises and faint scar marks on his body.  He couldn’t count them all. There were quite a number of them on his back, intersecting the lines of his tattoo.

He liked to trace his fingers on them, these marks that appeared out of nowhere. To be honest, Law was concerned when they first appeared. He didn’t remember harming himself and after some medical checks, he realized they weren’t fatal. Soon he didn’t care but still a felt a twinge of worry when a new one appeared.

Why did they keep appearing? He had wondered a lot of times. He didn’t have a scientific explanation and he didn’t put much care into them anyway. As long as they were not hazardous in a tiny bit, he could continue living his life with scarred skin.

 

* * *

 

Rocinante was known by everyone to be hopelessly clumsy. No one could keep track of how many times they had seen him with one of his shoulders burning or with his legs in the air and an aching bum. There were countless of times when he cut himself and had Band-Aids wrapped around his fingers and stuck on his forearms.

His clumsiness was incurable. Even as an adult, Rocinante was still a clumsy clown.

.

Rocinante had a habit of counting his scars and recalling the acts he had performed to be left with them as marks of reminder. He knew he was clumsy, hopelessly clumsy. And no matter how hard he had tried, the clumsiness still clung to him like his second skin.

However, every time he traced his fingers on them, he couldn’t help but smile. There was a scar on his right shoulder he gained when he saved his older brother, Doflamingo, from a falling small pot of plant.

Yes, it sounded ridiculous but these things do happen. The owner of the unfortunate pot of plant lived in a block of flat and on the highest floor at that. Rocinante was quick enough to push Doflamingo out of the way but not quick enough to not get injured. After pushing his brother away, he tripped on his own footing and fell to the ground unceremoniously. His fell also made his right shoulder be the landing spot for the pot of plant. The pot shattered upon its landing and Rocinante could feel a piece of the porcelain pot pierce his shoulder.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Graphic description of how a man was injured to be hospitalised and hyperventilation. Just read this with cautions. I don't want to get in trouble with the authorities

Scars kept appearing and Law was used to it. The numbness that came along soon became something he felt daily.

Every day was the same. Nothing was abnormal. The person at the reception would chat with him for a while before he left to go to his domain.

 _"Are your scars still increasing in number?"_  They had asked him one day. He nodded in reply. _"Your soulmate must be a very clumsy person."_

_"What do you mean?"_

And so Law was told the theory of soul mate scars.

Of course he didn’t believe it at first. He politely said goodbye before leaving to do his job. The day went by and he completely forgot about the theory by the time his shift ended. He came home and the cycle of his days restarted.

 

Then one day,  _(it had to happened on his precious day off)_  he felt a pain in his chest. He couldn’t breathe steadily. Something was compressing his lungs. He collapsed on the floor in his studies at home with hands gripping the front of his shirt. Saliva dripped down his chin as he gasped for air.

_Oh precious air._

The wheezing agony stopped after a few minutes. Law no longer felt the compression. The anguish that ran over him, numbed him was gone.

He could breathe again.

Law coughed and wheezed for air. His breathing became stable and he could sit up straight once more. His lungs were working fine again. 

After a few minutes, Law could finally stand up and he leant on his table for support.

The phone rang unexpectedly, startling Law. He groggily reached for his phone and answered the call.

It was Shachi and it sounded urgent.

 

* * *

 

There had been a car accident between a taxi and a truck. The truck driver did not sustain any critical injuries, the taxi driver died immediately but the passenger had chances of surviving. Law was called to come to check the patient’s condition. As he crossed the streets to the hospital where he worked, his future patient was on the way.

A man with blond hair, decorated with red markings of his own blood was on his way.

His ribs were broken, 28 fractures along his spine and internal bleeding. His lungs were filled with fluid and so was his skull.

 

* * *

 

To Rocinante, everything went by with a haze. He couldn’t remember anything but a flash of light and the sounds of tires burning the road. After that, nothing. When he found his grasp of reality again, he realised he was in a whitewashed room with wires connected to his body and breathing supports.

He blinked tiredly, trying to adjust to the blinding light of the morning.

 _“Damn it. Why couldn’t the curtains be thicker?”_  He thought, annoyed even though he was immobile on his hospital bed. His left hand was being squeezed tightly to the point of hurting. He darted his eyes and tried to have a peek. And to his surprise, Doffy was holding his hand.

His brother was sleeping peacefully. His head rested neatly on his folded arms and he snored softly.

Rocinante closed his eyes as if he was sighing. He had a lot of explanation to give Doffy. However, he succumbed to his exhaustion and fell asleep; the thought of explaining escaped him.


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dofu's appearing so that's a good thing? For now at least because to me he's quite a challenge so I may or may not write him or in his POV again.

Roci hadn't woken up yet. The doctor said he was being brain dead for the time being. If he wouldn't wake up in a month, Doflamingo was advised to pull the plug by then which he of course did not want to at all.

But he had survived that accident. Doflamingo was conflicted because he did not know whether to be ecstatic or to be sorrowful. Ecstatic because his brother still had chances to survive this misfortune but sorrowful because his brain was critically damaged, which could leave him obtuse for the rest of his life.

The surgeon who had saved his life seemed to be too interested in Roci. He visited often to check on Roci, too often for Doflamingo's liking.

At times he would find the young surgeon standing outside of the window looking in when he was coming to visit his younger brother. He would be noticed nonetheless. The young man had sharp eyes for someone who was sleep-deprived, as evident in the bags under his eyes.

He acknowledged the young surgeon in his brother with distaste however showing it directly would put in in a disadvantage. Apparently, he was adored by his colleagues. Doflamingo would be stupid to go against that surgeon, Trafalgar Law. If he had, that would be against the hospital that was saving his brother's life.

 

* * *

 

Law had been watching the man with the scars and injuries much like his own markings. He had suspicions and theories but it was best to not raise any questions.

 

_"Donquixote Rocinante"_

 

Law felt like he had seen or heard that name before. But his memories were hazy. He desired a good sleep then which was odd. But he was no longer needed at the hospital and he left at 16:13 that day, heading home.

Home to him was a messy chilly flat but he could live with it. He didn't have clothes laying here and there but books, newspapers, leaflets, papers. Papers were everywhere. But Law liked it. He would clean up sometimes and be organised. However, that day was not one of those days.

He stared at the living room in disdain. His favourite sleeping spot, the holy settee, was covered in papers. Paid bills, adverts, unopened letters. Law sighed in exasperation. He rid his settee of the pesky paper by a wave of his hand and they all fell on to the floor. Law promptly swung himself on the settee. He curled into a comfortable position and fell asleep the moment he closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

At the meantime, Doflamingo was by Rocinante's side. A vase of sunflowers on the table beside the latter's hospital bed. To Doflamingo, it was a change compared to the sickening whiteness of the hospital.

Roci had always loved sunflowers so he didn't think twice before buying a bouquet on his way to visit his younger brother. Baby 5 came by earlier, leaving a bouquet of lavender. It still sat idly at the end of the bed, waiting to be picked up.

Doflamingo just sat languidly there, shifting then and now beside. His fingers were knitted together, thumbs rubbing against calloused skin. 

In and out, he breathed. Doflamingo felt sick, inhaling the odour of hospital and medicine.  _Of imprisonment_ , he thought. 

Time flew by as Doflamingo sat beside Roci. A nurse came in to remind him of the time and to check up on Roci's conditions. After looking at numbers and words foreign to him, she said Roci's health was improving and that he could go home with good news like that. Doflamingo thanked her and she had nodded. 

After she had left, he held up Roci's left hand, the one that was not connected to wires and machines, and gingerly pressed his lips on the smooth skin.

_"See you again, Roci."_

 


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter by a writer who does not know where this fic is going but enjoy.

Law watched as the man with slicked spiky blond hair exited the hospital building. He was just chatting with the receptionist. That was all. Of course he wasn't waiting for that man to leave and check on his patient.

Of course not.

  
Law was good at lying, especially to himself. However, that wasn't the matter at hand now.  As soon as Law saw the man, Donquixote Doflamingo, hopped onto his car and the chauffeur drove away the car away into the distance, he walked casually to Donquixote Rocinante's room.

The hallway was vacant. Good. That was one thing of his hand.

Doflamingo seemed to have forgotten to close the blinds. Law watched through the glass window. It had been a month since Rocinante was hospitalised and not once did he wake up.

When did he begin to be curious about Rocinante? Law did not know but one thing he was sure of was after seeing the numerous scars on Rocinante's body, Law started to have questions. Those scars of his patient were in the same positions as his. Also the sudden and unusual attack he had last month was arousing questions from him.

A coincidence? He thought so but the theory of the receptionist kept stepping in while he tried to think logically. Law really shouldn't have listened carefully to that theory. Now his mind was foggy with ridiculous assumptions.

He stopped pondering and resumed his watching.

And to his surprise, Law noticed the limp body in the room twitching and moving. He couldn't believe his eyes and for a moment, a long moment, he acted impulsively.

He ran as if a devil was hot on his heels to get the doctor that was assigned to take care of Rocinante. The hallway echoed the thumping sounds of his rushed movements.

 

The doctor thanked Law for the sudden notice. Rocinante was getting better. In fact, he had woken up after the doctor arrived, confused with his surroundings.

A nurse checked the numbers on the screens of the machines to make sure they were normal as the doctor sat down and check Rocinante's conditions. Then he proceeded to ask Rocinante about how he was feeling. The patient was silent. The doctor asked again and still no answers. That was when they realised Rocinante could not speak, something that Doflamingo forgot to mention while he was filling in the patient’s form.

The doctor sighed and advised Rocinante should take a rest and sleep. After that, he told him that he no longer needed assistance with breathing. Rocinante's face was still expressionless; he gave small nods to assure the doctor that he was listening.

The doctor turned around and noticed Law so he introduced him as the surgeon who performed the surgery that saved his life.

The nurse left to call Doflamingo about Rocinante waking up. Law could see that the doctor was expecting him to leave so Rocinante could rest. And so Law reluctantly made his leave.

 

* * *

 

 

Rocinante was surprised to put it simply. He woke up painlessly as if it was just a dream, that those days he spent unconscious on a hospital bed weren't real. He felt numb. The doctor's words went in one ear and got out the other. He was so confused that he didn't say anything when the doctor asked him questions.

Everything was a haze to him.

 

* * *

 

 

In the middle of his way home, Doflamingo received a call. It was from the hospital. He answered the call and almost dropped his phone. He lunged forward to grab onto the driver’s seat and tell his chauffeur to turn around, thus scaring the man in the process, making him lose control of the wheel momentarily. The car suddenly made a U-turn and caught the attention of a nearby police officer. 

 

* * *

 

 

Rocinante was ushered to sleep and he followed because he had nothing better to do after he woke up. The nurse helped him lay down and tucked him in to help him feel comfortable before absconding. He stared at the door for a long while before averting his eyes to the ceiling, trying to contemplate everything that had just happened. He was determined to not fall asleep and fall asleep he did. He wasn't in the best shape after all.

 

* * *

 

At 22:00, Law trudged home. His long day was finally over. Pedestrians gave him odd looks and small grunts here and then but nothing of the unusual sorts. His backpack was heavy with nicked goods from the hospital: toilet papers, food. He wasn't wealthy to begin with. Since his parents and sister died in the fire of the family’s hospital when he was 10, he had been living with little money but he managed to live by and he was still working relentlessly to pay back his loans.

Law shook his head, shrugging off the bad memories. Before he knew, he was at the doorstep of his flat block, hands digging into his bag for the keys.

His mind chanted “Rocinante, Rocinante…” as he ascended the stairs until it hit him.

He was the brother of one of the most benevolent donors of the scholarship program he signed up for. When he was a college student, Law did his homework on every donor and found this name. He dashed toward his flat, hoping to find his old documents from his time at med school. On his way down the corridor, he almost knocked over Penguin who just got back from the dry cleaner.

 

Law spent two hours looking for the document, throwing papers everywhere. Only when Penguin came by at 00:05 to check on him did he stop. But at last, he had found what he was looking for. Creasy and unceremoniously tucked inside a binder of irrelevant things was the paper he had tried to retrieve all night.

 

After dealing with Penguin, which the latter just came by to trade some food, he began reading his newest achievement on his beloved settee after emptying a mug of coffee.

 

**_Donquixote Corporation_ **

_An empire in the service industry. Most famous for their line of luxurious hotels._

_The current Chairman, Donquixote Doflamingo, also successfully expanded his corporation's reach to the entertaining industry and had a merchandising branch._  
  


_In 1875 Spain, a small inn was founded by a Donquixote family member and that was the start of the involvement of the Donquixote family with the service industry._

_Through time, the inn expanded and grew into a huge company in 1901. They moved their headquarters to England. The company had a hard time staying in the black during the two world wars and the Depression. However, they survived._

_When the Margaret Thatcher became the Minister of England, Donquixote Homing took over the company. The company fell during this time of economic crisis. But Donquixote Homing, a kind and generous man he was, continued his charity work. The company was deeply in the red when the government closed numerous coal mines. Nothing could be done. The family went into hiding, leaving behind mountains of debts._

_Twenty years later, Donquixote Homing's oldest son, Donquixote Doflamingo reappeared after their disappearance and started to rebuild the company from the mountains of debts his father had left as his legacy. After a decade, the company was back into business._

_His younger brother, Donquixote Rocinante resurfaced two years later as a result of his consistent searching for him. Rocinante was working as a teacher for an English-teaching organization from Britain in one of its few branches in Russia. By the time they found him, he was preparing to be transferred from Moscow to a Vietnamese branch._

_Donquixote Doflamingo ruled over his empire with an iron fist. Everything reached his ears. He had four representatives; all were nicknamed after the four card suits' names in Spanish._

_The-_

 

That was all the paper had said, the last bit was splattered with coffee. Law cursed his younger self for being a careless twat. However, he could not blame his younger self for long. This paper didn’t provide much information about Donquixote Rocinante. Letting out a long and exaggerated sigh, Law went to find his computer to fulfil his need for information. He had forgotten the damned thing was inside his backpack and only recalled that after digging through his flat.

 

It was 01:34.

 

“This is going to be a long night.” Law thought.


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has vague description of self-harm so I suggest you skip this chapter or the flashback (italics in Law's part, after first line break) and Doflamingo's part which is after the third line break.

In the end, Law did not get a wink of sleep. He chugged down a mug of coffee and then was off to work. His body was used to this sleep-deprived, unhealthy lifestyle of his and going to work wasn't difficult. He decided to take short naps while he didn't have a surgery that day.

When he arrived at the hospital door, he recalled what had happened at the lobby the day before.

_Donquixote Doflamingo, barging in 30 minutes after the call he received and ran into a patient coming for an appointment. They crashed with a loud thud that silenced all little noises the lobby had and attracted everyone's attention. Both of them did not sustain any serious injuries but Doflamingo curled up in pain. The staff had asked if he was all right and Doflamingo answered with a grunt while standing up with difficulties. However, he failed and collapsed._

_Law was there, fortunate enough to see one of Donquixote Doflamingo's many secrets._

_He was moved from the lobby so that a proper doctor can check what was wrong with him.  And beneath his expensive suit were scars deliberately created by him, aligned with Rocinante's owns. Those markings, made by Donquixote Doflamingo himself, were a complete match with Rocinante's. From the colour and to the depth of the scars. There was one that looked fresh on his chest, among others. _

_ "He must have made it recently." _ _Law thought and he was sure his colleagues who were present in the room did too._

_The only difference was his left eye, with grey iris instead of blue and the skin around it was scarred._

_Law had cringed at the sight. He had seen worse but this particular case was new to him. He remembered his own faint markings in the same places as Rocinante's were nowhere near as exact as Doflamingo's._

_He knew why those scars came into existence. It wasn't because Doflamingo was "clumsy"._

_Law had been there. He knew the feeling of desperation and hopelessness well. Unconsciously, he shifted his weight between his legs in a nervous manner. Luckily for him, no one noticed._

_The man in question was slowly losing his consciousness and yet he stubbornly demanded people to in hand him and let him meet his little brother._

_._

_Law escaped and went back to his office, alone and safe. As soon as the door was closed, leaving him in the dark, he flopped into his chair. He could not comprehend what he had seen. Law felt sick. For the first time after a long while, he wanted to erase the memory of what he had witnessed._

_For the rest of the day, he was free of any surgeries as no one thought he was calm enough to perform. Law was grateful of that and hid in the staff room until 22:00, when he usually went home._

* * *

When Rocinante woke up again, 12 hours had passed. The room was dimly lit. He had vague recollection of waking up the day before. Surprisingly, one thing he had remembered clearly was the surgeon, Trafalgar Law.

There was something familiar about that stranger. It was an odd feeling and Rocinante wished to not have to deal with this uneasiness. His feeling of incomplete suddenly washed over him again after a month of absence and he shivered in pain.

Two nurses came in to check on him. His physical conditions were getting better, one had said. The other, with light-coloured hair in pigtails and a wide smile, asked him if he needed anything. Rocinante lied, "No, thank you for asking." She seemed to not buy it but she didn’t push him.

It was a strange day, unlike any other day he had spent in the hospital after an accident. It wasn't because of the accident. Rocinante didn't feel the pain he had come to know as a part of him. The pain was replaced by numbness. And it was strong in his heart.

_Something was missing._

To Rocinante, they were bold words to describe this strangeness. He could imagine fate laughing at him in the face. Or his brother doing so. Either way, both were bad and he hoped not to deal with the embarrassment.

Sleep sounded like a nice idea then so he lied down on the softness of the bed and pillows and proceeded to close his eyes.

* * *

It was two days later after Doflamingo came to. He didn’t know what time was it or anything that had happened. All he remembered was being restrained and screaming to be released before passing out.

Groaning and scratching his head were not going to get him anywhere after doing them and knowing that he was in a hospital room. He needed to get out. He didn’t like being trapped in a whitewashed room. It reminded him of when he was ten and how he almost lost Roci a month ago. He loathed this feeling. He was slowly losing Roci and he didn’t want what was his to be stolen away. That annoying surgeon was getting in the way and he wanted to wipe that brat off the face of the earth.

But first thing first, he had to get out of this room. And he had to do it fast.

He tried to get out of the bed but he was drained from energy. He flinched and winced at the sharp pain when he moved his body to get out. Realising the pain was from his newest marking, he sighed in exhaustion. He shouldn't have overdone it.

 _When did this all start?_ He had asked himself when the answer was obvious.

_When Mum died._

He trembled and thought about when he saw Roci slipped and cut his little finger while cutting an apple. It was after Mum died and they were on the run from their old life. Droplets of crimson blood oozed out from the cut on the fragile little finger of Roci’s left hand. It was treated quickly but days later, it was a faint mark on Roci’s perfect skin and his brother was a little sad about it but made no complaint. Doflamingo didn’t want Roci to always frown. He wanted his brother to smile like he used to, sweet and innocent. He didn’t want Roci to feel left out and so one day not long after that event, he picked up a knife when no one was watching.

…

It continued for days and years, whenever Roci acquired a new scar until his sudden disappearance. For fourteen years, Doflamingo did not hear a word from Rocinante. He was worried. He didn’t know where his brother was or how he was doing. He was afraid that Roci might have died and he would have lost the last thing he had from his past life. He did not like that thought for one bit and he didn’t want to grieve. He had hopes for his brother’s safe return.

He started to rebuild Donquixote Empire from rubbles and dust while keeping an eye on any news about his beloved brother. He had an inside man in every major newspaper company around the globe from Libya to Argentina and still he had heard not a word of Roci. This had aroused suspicion from him. Was there someone betraying him? Or Roci was being kept from him? Either way, he did not like the wait until he could see and touch Roci again.


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Law's POV.  
> It has vague description of self harm at the end.

Law knew there was a long day ahead of him so he groggily pushed the door of the changing room open and prepared himself. As he worked on his changing, he remembered the research he had carried out the night before. It didn’t give him what he wanted. Most sites only provide brief information about Donquixote Corporation. If there was, someone must have deleted or blocked all the links to the fundamental information. All was about their charities and well doings and not much about the employees. There were some very interesting news about deceased men who had been brutally murdered and their neighbourhoods were set ablaze, yet no one knew who the culprit was but they all had a connection that they had proposed to Baby 5, an executive of the Corporation.

Something suspicious was going on inside that corporation and Law did not like that feeling. Half of him wanted to bring secrets of the Corporation to the light, half of him just want to continue his day in peace. He wasn’t a detective. He was just a surgeon, working to keep himself alive at Berish Hospital, who read too much horror-detective-fictional novels in his free time.

The second half won and so Law decided to bury his findings in a dusty corner of his mind.

“So the effort was not put to waste at some point.” Law thought. Though he didn’t achieve his desired information, he did in fact get a hold of some fairly intriguing ones.

Well, not exactly but who cared? Not him at the time being.

Maybe he could find time to talk to Donquixote Rocinante today. He had have this urge to talk to the man since the first time he had laid eyes on him, which was when Rocinante was first pushed into the operating theatre covered in his own blood and with severe injuries.

What an exciting first meeting, even though Rocinante was unconscious during that time.

_7:25_

Law only had to work the day shift that day. Penguin had it covered in the evening.

Oh how he loved Mondays.

Outside, the October weather was slowly getting colder and the wind was starting to be harsher on the pedestrians.

.

_12:00-13:30 _ Lunch break_

Law wanted to spend at least 30 minutes to go and visit Rocinante. That meant finishing his lunch quickly was needed.

That day seemed to be his lucky day. When he arrived at the staff cafeteria, Shachi gave him his favourite meal as soon as he stepped foot into the room. That saved him time and effort. Shachi saluted him before skipping away and out of the cafeteria like it was the best day of his life. Seconds later, Penguin came to Law’s side with a cup of coffee and then disappeared. Law was confused but he did not question anything. Sitting down on a vacant table, he dug in his meal.

About half an hour later, Law found himself about to knock on a certain someone’s door with his hand raised and ready to knock. On second thought, maybe he shouldn’t bother Rocinante today. He needed some rest and Law didn’t want to leave a bad first impression like he normally did. Unbeknownst to Law, Rocinante was asleep, thus unable to keep him company.

_To knock and talk or not to knock and walk away?_

Law was closed to knocking the door with his forehead, alerting the man inside with the wearisome of the potential knocking. Subsequently, without a word, he padded away, thinking of a date to reschedule his visit. And he did make a right choice.

* * *

_*Two weeks later*_

Law still hadn’t forgotten his intention to revisit Rocinante alone. No, he hadn’t. The need to just see that face had been eating him from the inside for fourteen days. He was a surgeon, he had responsibilities and duties.

Life just got busier. It was almost Thanksgiving. “Ahh, yes, November”. Halloween was a blast. He wasn’t on the list of people who had to give children patients there sweets. But he sent his wishes and regards.

Law just hoped that he wouldn’t be called to the hospital as usual so he could spend this American holiday to go out and do some extra work at Moby Dick Restaurant to earn some extra cash. Doing this part-time job during the holidays eased his mind. To Law, Moby Dick Restaurant wasn’t really a restaurant; it was more like a huge diner ran by an old man, who was of 72 years of age but still went to the gym every week, through his head waiter and 15 head staffs, aka a band of troublemakers who can miraculously get their jobs done. Unbelievable but hey, he got a job for the holiday or days when his presence is not required at the hospital unless it was an exception.

Back to the main point, Law was once again at Rocinante’s door, room 412, with his knuckles raised and ready to knock. However the door opened suddenly and Law hit his knuckles on his colleague’s face. The man was shorter than Law after all. His face scrunched up in pain. He crouched down and held his nose.

“Crap, you’re okay?” Law’s knuckles were sharp and his aim was unfortunately sharp as well. His colleague’s nose was bleeding from the accidental blow.

“Language, Trafalgar. And damn you.” He titled his head to glare at Law but his eyes held no contempt. “Keep him company will you? I’m counting on you, mate.” He gestured towards Rocinante before waddling away.

Law stared at his colleague trampling away into the distance before disappearing as he made a turn down the hallway. Switching his attention back into the man in the room and found he was being stared at with wide eyes. Law noticed Rocinante’s eyes were of a soft hue cornflower blue and his was a radiating shade of golden blond. He had a soft look, something that was notably captivating.

Little did Law knew, he was deep in love. But let’s not go there so soon or there wouldn’t be stories to tell.

Why were his eyes so good all of a sudden? What is going on? Law was silently panicking. He was a professional; he spent years brushing off his cold look after all. Even so, he was nervous, NERVOUS, in front of this man, Donquixote Rocinante. What was going on?

Law was never good at literature during his time at school. He just got passable scores. Nevertheless, if he were to be asked to describe the feeling he had when he finally took a good look on Rocinante again, he would say he was speechless and the end. It would ruin the mood, the anticipation of some sort of poetic and lengthening answer.

Still, Law was truly speechless that time. Luckily, his jaw did not fail him and drop on the floor or it would have been embarrassing and the awkwardness would rise beyond a human’s capability to withstand it.

Law didn’t know how long they had been staring at each other. Sometimes he lost concept of time and this was one of those moments.

Rocinante jolted and averted his eyes away from Law, finding the creases on his blanket far more interesting than the dark-haired surgeon with tired golden eyes with purple bags under them.

Doctors, nurses, patients, visitors who had time to spare, every passer-by was staring at him, a man standing at a wide-open door and not going in. Their looks sending silent critical messages, curiosity and rare was the idea to encourage him to talk to the patient in room 412. Rocinante turned and gave Law an expression that said “Come in before you embarrass yourself further” as he gestured him to do so. Law did what he was told to do and politely closed the door behind him. He could hear Rocinante sighing and sounds of uncapping pen and flipping papers. Law didn't want to pry but curiosity is a humanly feature he couldn't forsake, even in a life or death situation. He didn't pride himself for it; he would say he was rather… inconvenienced by it.

Rocinante held out a note, scribbled almost unintelligible but Law was able to decipher the message.

"Can I help you with anything?" Which was ironic because consider their positions. But Law knew the question meant no offence.

He took a stool hidden in a corner and sat down besides the bed.

* * *

They talked about many things, like old friends who hadn’t seen each other for years and trying to catch up with what the other had been up to in those missing years.

They both had more in common than they thought, they had things they never thought they would share. At first glance, both thought they were as different as night and day. Even if they were, they fit nicely. They both started from scratch after a horrible event that preferred to be forgotten. They struggled with life by keep holding on to the little things that made them who they were.

Although Law did most of the talking, Rocinante was no less ardent than he was during their conversation. He did most of the writing of course. Lucky enough, he had a few notebooks stocked on the bedside table so it wasn’t needed to run out and get a new one whenever he ran out of paper.

They started out as strangers and only after an hour of talking, they became friends. Days after days, their bond grew stronger and every day they woke up, waiting for the other’s company.

* * *

Though he had a tight schedule, Law still managed to squeeze in some times to visit room 412. Once or twice a week became daily. He spent most of his lunch time talking to Rocinante. Law had attempted to skip it to have more time talking but after being found it on the first day of skipping by none other than his company, he lost to the persuasion and continued his daily appearances in the cafeteria, as if the one day of absence had never occurred.

And of course, after a day or two, Law forgot about Doflamingo’s existence inside the hospital. He was reminded on a lovely and breezy Saturday, a few days after the questioned man’s unfortunate hospitalisation. It started as a beautiful day to Law. Rare did he notice small things about the weather on his short walk to work but that day was particularly special.

As planned, Law walked enthusiastically to room 412 after finishing lunch, not minding having to use the stairs that day. Little people noticed the cheery atmosphere that Law was engulfed in. It was only three days after his first formal meeting with Rocinante after all. Upon his arrival, Law was not ready to have a fist swung at him as soon as he opened the door, albeit rather weakly. Law dodged it effortlessly. Rocinante was too weak to even walk at the moment and Law could not think of anyone who would want to give him have a taste of their knuckles inside a hospital room.

His attacker turned out to be none other than Donquixote Doflamingo. Law was taken by surprise when the man had an angry look on his face. How Doflamingo even found out about his recent visits to room 412, where Rocinante was currently residing, during lunch break beyond Law. The older looked down upon him, an advantage he had for possessing an inhumanly height of six feet seven. Law was six feet three and frankly speaking, he was intimidated. Despite the fact that he was in bad shape, Doflamingo still had the impression of a predator, much like when he was working.

Behind the tall man was Rocinante on the hospital bed, trying to find something to fling at his brother. Doflamingo was in the modest hospital clothing he had been assigned to wear, a remarkable difference from his daily expensive suits. He seemed to be in better shape than when he was hospitalised.

“What are you doing here?” asked Law and only earned another attempted punch to his face as an answer. “Okay, okay.” Law had been a surgeon long enough to know what that meant.

Doflamingo glared down at him. Without his personalised sunglasses, his intimidation was of a whole new scale. His squinted eyes tried to make out of everything surrounding him, although one of them was completely useless. A vein was slowly making its appearance on his forehead. Even though Law was scared, he found the vein funny-looking.

Law could see that Doflamingo was in a wordless rage. Why? He did not know but the man needed to calm down before the vein exploded. That would be an ugly sight to witness.

Doflamingo seemed to have cooled down.

“I want to have a talk with you.” He muttered calmly, loud enough for only Law to hear. Law didn’t need to hear a word to know what Doflamingo wanted him to do: Stay away from Rocinante. He didn’t intend to comply with that “request” so it was a lost to Doflamingo.

“No. I refuse.”

Doflamingo must have expected that answer. He did nothing but pushed Law aside and walked out of the room. 

Law had expected a much more dramatic reaction. But he was alone with Rocinante now.

* * *

Though Law’s life still remained its pace, little changes became noticeable after a short time.

Two weeks later, Law noticed as Christmas was nearing, he had slept deeper each night. Soon enough, he noticed he went to bed with a bubbly feeling inside and woke up with an anticipating mood. His diet became healthier. He had fine physique by then, not the walking stick he once was.

Law was quite happy about his improvement and at the same time, he knew the day when his constant visit to room 412 would end forever was coming. It was inevitable. He was glad that Rocinante’s condition was getting better. At the meantime, he had a lingering selfish hope for Rocinante to stay forever and to get rid of the burden of that thought cost him some blood he drew from himself, after such a long time of not giving in to the temptation.

But Rocinante was getting better.

And he, Trafalgar Law, was fostering love inside of his frail body. He hoped to stay in touch with the man after he get out of the hospital and go back to his daily life before the accident.


	7. Author's note #1

Hey, guys.

It’s Ty, the author of Soulmate Scars. I’m taking a break from updating Soulmate Scars or writing in general because my mental health is going downhill and my school life is getting busier. I will continue writing and updating Soulmate Scars whenever I find the time, motivation or after April has ended.

I make up the plot as I write this fic. The characters were written as an aspect of my life and the whole fic to me isn’t really good so when it’s summer, I might rewrite it or just pick up where I left it. I might write here and there but I won’t post it unless it’s acceptable and time is on my side. 

Doflamingo is a challenge to me. It is hard for me to write down his character thus I do not guarantee 100%-in-character Doflamingo. The overreaction I wrote in chapter 6 was a mistake. I am terribly sorry but I somewhat had intended to do that.

Law and Rocinante are easier to capture but I might make mistake at any given moment.

This story was just inspired by a prompt. The way I describe hospitals and doctor’s life may contain inaccuracies. My sincere apologies. It had been quite a long time since I visit a hospital in Vietnam and my grandmother was a doctor before 2000 so some of the details might be out-of-date.  

Thank you for your patience.

\- Ty

 **PS:** If you want to find me, here's my [main blog](http://tophatnerd.tumblr.com/) and [writing blog](http://strangerwithabrokenpen.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


	8. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have already written over 1,111 words for this chapter and I couldn’t resist the urge to update it. Usually, I would want to keep a weekly update so I’ll pick up this pace once April is over. The plot is made up as I go so you know what to expect. It may fall out of line at some point but I still want to keep the plot as neat and understandable as possible while still being interesting. I’m sure originality isn’t present in my fic but it is really fun writing.  
> THIS CHAPTER ALSO HAVE GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF SELF HARM SO BEWARE WHEN YOU REACH ROCI'S PART

Doflamingo lumbered back to his hospital room with clenched fists and squinted eye. He had overreacted. He let his animalistic instincts took control over him.

Everyone made way for him. He was known and feared even in the four walls of a hospital. None dared to stand in his way, literally.

 _“Good. They acknowledged their place.”_ He thought, egotistically.

He entered his hospital room with care due to the fact that the door was shorter than his height. This was one of the inconveniences that came with being six feet seven. (Nonetheless, he loved being taller than most people. He could look down upon them after all.) That explained why Roci was always bumping his head even though he was shorter than him only by about one or two inch.

It was against social norms and the law for two (or more) people of the same lineage in the limit of three generations to fall in love with one another. Oh, Doflamingo knew very well about this matter. He didn't study law as a minor in university for nothing.

However, this was something he couldn't deny not having it. The intensity of it and the possessiveness he felt whenever Roci came into the picture.

Slouching down onto his hospital bed, Doflamingo snickered.

"That damned brat."

* * *

At that moment, Law crouched down and sneezed into his palm. Someone must be talking about him. He had hoped it was something positive. His body shook violently along with the sneeze and he felt more mentally weary than usual.

Out of the blue, the picture of the sunflower vase that was once on the bedside table of Rocinante’s room appeared in his wearied head. A nurse went and took care of the flowers and how Doflamingo even managed to sneak such brightly-coloured thing in the hospital was out of his mind. The vase was still there, empty and not serving its purpose.

* * *

Law had noticed that there was a pair of unique scars, each at the end of Rocinante’s pale pink lips. The skin was healed but they had left their marks. They were two lines; each curled up and formed a faint smile on Rocinante’s pale face. He never talked about those two facial scars. Though when it was about the scars he bore on his body, he talked like it was nothing, as if those scars to him were just lines you doodled on a piece of scrap paper. What Rocinante had gone through to be marked with those scars, Law now knew. He was the first to see the scars, mapping out the positions of them on Rocinante’s frail body.

And yet Law had not yet gathered the courage to talk about his own scars that had appeared on the skin of his own.

He knew there would be a day when he couldn’t let Rocinante stay in the dark about his own scars and burdens.

He knew he had to tell Rocinante one day but he was postponing that day.

He just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

…

Law hated to admit this but he was weak.

.

One month finally passed andRocinante could walk by now, out of the confinement of his hospital bed and out there venturing in the hospital ground. There was always a staff keeping an eye on him for his clumsiness was already well-known in the hospital. News did travel fast after all. Doflamingo should have dropped a note about his brother’s clumsiness, not waiting for someone to catch him snowboarding down the stairs with his bum as the board.

Rocinante’s first few steps during his recovering were staggering but there was always room for improvement.

* * *

Rocinante and Law made a promise that they would continue to meet and chat even after the former left the hospital.

It was two days before Rocinante’s departure. He had a hopeful look on his face and lips curled into a gentle smile.

Law couldn’t say no to that face and he had no intention in the first place either.

The promise was sealed with a handshake. Law had lingered his grip, not wanting to let go. His wish was granted as he and Rocinante sat in silence, surrounded with intangible hope and the white theme of the hospital. Law flexed his hands and his fingers linked with Rocinante’s, not wanting to let go off the calloused fingers of a man he only knew in a short amount of time.

But to Law it was a friendship of a lifetime and he told him everything he was willing to tell. There were things he wouldn’t tell everyone else, even if he had known them for an extended amount of time. He trusted Rocinante. There were secrets he wasn’t ready to share, even when they were already at the tip of his tongue. He swallowed them down and waited for another day.

* * *

_Linked fingers and unspoken secrets._

* * *

Rocinante had scars he never knew where they came from. They were on his thighs, short and fairly deep. He remembered years ago, sometimes there would be a sharp pain, as if his skin and artery broke, in his thighs and a rosy red mark would appear. It would become purplish and remained a faint fleshy-coloured mark on his skin days later. There were many of time and a year or two before his unwelcome accident, they stopped appearing. He was glad that the scars and pain stopped.

Law had said he bore markings, faint scars appeared in the own accord, littered all over his body. His marks were similar to the ones Rocinante clumsily caused to himself. Much of them were from the time when Rocinante had little money to survive, not to mention hospital and medication. If it wasn’t for Sengoku, he wouldn’t think of living to tell the tale.

He was informed of the “Soulmate Scars” theory and he doubted it was true. He didn’t question Law if he believed this theory but he doubted it. Law seemed to be a realistic man so he probably didn’t.

It was fun to see people going around creating theories to make life less hard but had they ever considered the exceptions? What about people without marks falling in love with those who did? Those people who had markings falling in love, with those have ones different from theirs? What about the kind of love that was the inevitable product of kindness? The love shared between more than two people?

Rocinante had his theories and they all started from one simple theoretical sentence: _What if those little cuts and bruises that seemingly appeared out of nowhere on your body are actually little injuries that your soulmate have and you have the same marks as them?_

It was like reading essay papers from his students, each filled with different opinions from people of diverse backgrounds on a particular matter.

However, he never brought up his scars on his thighs to Law. He had no idea why he didn't. Maybe he wasn't ready? But he was sure Law knew about them. The younger man did perform the surgery that saved his life. He owed him a big one.

* * *

Doflamingo escaped the hospital much earlier than his brother did. He had a personal doctor so Berish hospital let him out early and entrusted him to his doctor once again. The day after his “escape”, he went back to work right away. Though he knew he could trust Diamante and Trebol to run the company without him, he wanted to be careful.

He arrived at his desk, facing its back at the glassed wall on the twentieth floor of Donquixote Cooperation’s headquarter. He sat down heavily and opened his drawer, the first on the left. He took out a small piece of paper, scribbled in cursive.

" _Accident_ , truck, 22:57"

 _22:57_ , the exact time Rocinante had his accident. Doflamingo had arranged it, five grand as a reward to a man making little money with a driver license was enough. Planting him into a truck company and waited. Five grand in exchange for the man's silence and service. Five grand to put his brother's like on the line for he could not stop being paranoid about the mismatched scarring of Rocinante and his. He made his own scars, copying Rocinante's ones, which were results of his clumsiness, bad luck and accidents.

_Had he gone mad?_

 


	9. Author's note #2

I have asked my teacher who had been in a similar situation like Rocinante (only he had been in a bike accident and remember little of how) and I have come to a conclusion that I have been writing it medically wrong. My hospital setting is terrible, my writing of Rocinante's recovery shares the same fate and other details.

And so, I decided to put this fic under hiatus so I can rewrite it so the fic can be more medically accurate and enforced the logic and reality of this fic. Some of the details that heavily contribute to the plot may be changed so I advise you to reread it again after I update it.

My sincerest apologies and thank you for your patience,

Ty


	10. Announcement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read this tumblr post before you continue please: http://strangerwithabrokenpen.tumblr.com/post/116823671521/strangerwithabrokenpen-strangerwithabrokenpen
> 
> If you didn't bother to then long story short, I've decided to discontinue this fic because I lost motivation. I've become less and less interested in continue writing SS as time passes.
> 
> I'm sorry to disappoint you but this is it, this fic is discontinued.

 

He asked himself sometimes, if he could still remember the strong smell of tobacco masked with lavender-scented febreze.

Except it wasn't "sometimes".

It was often, usually.

It was a question he asked himself every day. When he woke up, he woke up to a life he had been living, a life deprived of the sound of one tripping and fell to their arse or the flickering noise of fire.

He couldn't.

And he asked himself other questions.

When was the last time he saw that face with a Cheshire smile that lasted for an eternity?

The last time he took a look at thick blonde locks without the scorn in those blue eyes that had seen despair and murders?

The last time he regarded the person lying six feet under, marked by a plain marble grave in front of him as a brother, not as an obsession or "Corazon"?

The last time they laughed, danced, cried and sang together? Not him talking as if having a monologue out loud, expecting an answer from silent lips but none came for him.

Remember old nursery rhymes and lullabies? He remembered none.

Those were off a life he had forsaken and he might have forsaken his own brother in the process.

_Might_

Those memories were long gone, now nothing to him but he couldn't help to hang onto the residing memories of Rocinante in his mind.

However, he was gone now. Thanks to him.

Finally, Doflamingo was released from his old life but not from the haunting recollections he had about his brother.

He placed a bouquet of lavender in front of the grave. Promptly turning on his heels, he walked back to his car and the waiting chauffeur. He tried his best not to look back, not to show sentiment. To his relief, he succeeded. That was the first and last time he visited that cemetery, a year and a half after the road accident.

.

Far away, a man saw the retreating figure.

He was dressed sharply, sporting an oddly-looking white fur cap with black spots and carried a bouquet of lilacs with him, intending to visit a particular grave at the cemetery. As he walked nearer to his destination, the blond standing next to the grave he was paying a visit to came into sight and he stopped in his track. Moving to hide behind a tree where he could see things more clearly but kept a respectful distance, he waited for the man to leave and only carried on with his plans then.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by this post: http://jensendaddy.tumblr.com/post/76388887267/maybe-the-little-bruises-and-cuts-that-show-up-on


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